Threads of the Past
by crimsonmornings
Summary: The Inquisitor wakes to find a mysterious mark on her hand with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there. Will she be able to connect the threads of her former life or will she begin a new one as the chosen of Andraste? This will not follow canon.


I awoke with a piercing headache and a strange stabbing in my palm. I looked down, flexing my shackled hand as the strange green gash pulsed around it. Had that always been there? It certainly hurt. Staring at it made my head spin. Where was I? Nothing. Emptiness.

Two women burst into the room. The dark haired one circled around me as a hunter does her prey. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." She pointed an accusing finger at me.

I tried to make sense of what she said. What was this Conclave she spoke of? And everyone dead...how had I gotten here? I said nothing. I had no answer that would satisfy her. She grabbed my hand. "Explain this." It sputtered that strange green glow again. Was it familiar? I couldn't recall.

"I...can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

Honesty had to be the best policy in this situation. "I don't know what that is, or how it got there."

"You're lying!" She grabbed me, but the red-headed woman interceded.

"We need her, Cassandra." The red-head brought this Cassandra away from me before turning to face me. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

I tried again to find any answer that might help. It was hazy...everything was hazy. I could not remember what happened...I could not remember anything. A sudden sense of terror took hold. I had lost my memories. Who was I?

"I don't remember...anything. I..who am I?"

"You have lost your memory?" The red-head asked. I nodded.

The woman Cassandra, who appeared to have calmed down a bit, spoke then, "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift." Leliana nodded, leaving, as Cassandra released me from my chains and brought me to my feet. She showed me the rift, a large green mass. Looking upon it made my hand burn. Had I caused this? Did I even have the power to do such a thing? I decided to be compliant. It seemed the best solution to this: fighting would probably just expedite my execution. And so I followed Cassandra willingly, hoping this Breach might offer a clue into who I was.

We came upon some demons and I reflexively shot one down with a blast of lightning, completely desintegrating it. I could shoot lightning. Out of my fingers. I was apparently fairly good at it, too. That was something anyway. Cassandra dispatched the other demon then turned on me.

"You're a mage?"

I shrugged. "I suppose I must be." Being able to control primordial forces was not as insane as it sounded then.

"A mage who does not know she is a mage with a strange mark upon her hand. It is hard to imagine anything more unpredictable." She seemed to weigh the dangers in her mind. "Can you control it?"

I thought for a moment. I stretched out my powers as one expands a bowstring, reaching, but hit some kind of barrier. It felt strange. Mutable yet not; elastic yet solid. As though it should not be there. Why would I think that? Regardless it appeared I could control the powers somewhat. "I think so."

"Very well. I cannot protect you. But be careful." I nodded. I followed behind her for a while longer, picking up a discarded staff laying next to one of the deceased. Using it made controlling my abilities easier, allowing me to funnel lightning through it. I must have practiced quite a bit before losing my memory, and thankfully amnesia had not rid me of my muscle memories.

We reached a group of other people fighting. I spotted some warriors dressed in armor with the eye insignia similar to the one Cassandra wore. They must be her soldiers. The other two there were very different from the others. One was short and carried an enormous crossbow potentially too large for his compact body. The other was clearly a mage. He shot bolt after bolt of ice from his staff, making it look easy. Had I seen him before? He seemed...familiar. He glanced at me, a look of surprise crossing his face, then took down the demon before me.

He came to my side as the short man shot down the last demon. "Quickly before more come through!" the mage yelled. He grabbed my hand, thrusting it towards the green mist collected in front of us. What had Cassandra called it? A rift. It closed, converging into a small globe then sputtering out of existence.

I turned to this man. He studied my face for a moment, then smiled. "So you have finally awoken then."

"I closed that? But how...I don't remember anything." His brows knit together slightly.

"You have lost your memory then?" I nodded. He looked...relieved? I could not quite tell. "I see. Whatever magic opened the breach to the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct. I did not anticipate your loss of memory, however."

Cassandra walked towards him. "Meaning it could also close the Breach itself."

"Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation." I gave him a quizzical look as the other one, the short one, spoke up.

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." He adjusted his cuffs, and I noticed how out of place he looked wearing an open-chested shirt in the frozen mountains. How was he not cold? Perhaps it was some kind of magic. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tag-along." He winked at Cassandra. He certainly had guts.

"It's nice to meet you, Varric."

The mage chuckled. "You may reconsider that stance, in time."

"Aww. I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles." The other one, the mage, was apparently called Chuckles then...?

Varric and Cassandra argued whether he could come with us. I turned to Chuckles and I realized his ears were different than the others. They were pointed.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" corrected Varric.

"You are..." I searched for the word.

"An apostate? An elf? Yes." The pointed ears marked him as an elf. And the short stature of Varric marked him as a dwarf. Child of the Stone. But what did that mean beyond those titles? And Cassandra was a _shemlen_. A quickling, a human. His voice interrupted my attempt to grasp the seemingly disparate threads floating through my mind. "Just as you are. Though technically all mages are now apostates."

"I...what?" I reached up, running a finger along my ear. Pointed. I was an elf. "What is an apostate?"

Cassandra made a slight gasping noise. "Do you truly remember nothing?" Embarrassment heated my ears. My pointed ears. This was all a bit too much to take in.

"It seems you have a great many things to learn. For now, apostates are those mages found outside the Chantry. As to what that means exactly, we can discuss that further after the threat of the Breach is dealt with." I nodded, thankful Solas had saved me from my embarrassment. He turned to Cassandra. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

She bobbed her head. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly." With that she walked off, Solas following her heels closely. Varric came to my side.

"Well, Bianca's excited!" He walked towards the others, and I followed behind them. I pushed the questions out of my mind, preparing for the journey ahead. For now I needed to stop the mark from consuming me. It seemed to burn hotter at the thought.


End file.
